DISCLAIMER/ A/N: If I had a dollar for every time I wished Harry Potter was mine and not J.K. Rowling's, I'd be Bill Gates.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Do you love me because I am beautiful? Or am I beautiful because I am loved?”
-Anonymous
CHAPTER ELEVEN
(insight)
Ginny spoke of the Laguna case. Or tried to.
She was trying so hard to spare Neville's feelings that she had managed to dance around the subject for almost an hour now. She dwelled at length on Scrimgeour's good name in the magical community, blabbered nonsense about Demetria Laguna's connection to the Blacks, ranted for at least ten minutes about the evil of Death Eaters, and basically avoided the whole point.
Neville listened, seemingly lost for words, but Luna -- who had insisted on staying to listen, despite numerous hints from Ginny that she'd rather talk to Neville alone -- had no patience for her tact. "Spit it out," she said at last, impatiently. "What does Demetria Laguna want from Neville?"
The three of them were in the library, and Ginny paused to look around for eavesdroppers before responding. She needn't have worried; the library was nearly empty. Time to get to the point.
"To be a witness," she said reluctantly. "To tell the Wizengamot that the Cruciatus is inhumane, and not particularly effective -- especially as a tool to force confessions -- since anyone will confess anything to escape the torture."
"Like what happened to my parents?" Neville's voice was a whisper. Luna reached for his hand and squeezed it, a gesture that Ginny noticed only because she was making an effort to turn away from the look on Neville's face. Inwardly, she cursed Lupin and Scrimgeour and all the other high-profile wizards for putting her in this position. Big boys playing big games. Who was thinking of Neville? Who was considering the possible trauma such a trial could inflict on such an impressionable young man?
"I'm not doing it," Neville said. His voice was higher than usual.
"Neville--" Ginny tried, but he was no longer listening.
"I can't!" he said loudly, and his voice was so pained that Madame Pince, for once, did not give the noisemaker a glare meant to intimidate the culprit into silence. Instead, she gave Neville a look of worried concern, but she soon reverted back to form when her gaze shifted to Ginny. Her evil glare said, what have you done to the poor boy?
It's not me, it's the bloody Ministry of Magic, Ginny wanted to yell, but she forced herself to stay calm. At least Madame Pince was restraining herself from interfering. And Neville's reaction was not unexpected. For a moment she searched for words, and finally, simply, she said, “Professor Lupin trusts you, Neville.”
He paled. “Surely he didn't think I'd agree to this!”
“Yes. He did. He was certain of it, in fact.”
A silence fell over them. The mixture of guilt and anguish and uncertainty on Neville's face made Ginny want to cry.
"I think you should do it," said Luna unexpectedly. "They need you. To show that Scrimgeour made a mistake in authorizing the use of the Unforgivable Curses."
Neville lowered his head. Ginny stared at Luna, stunned. The last thing she had expected was coherent advice from Loony Lovegood.
And she wasn't done yet. “If Scrimgeour wins the case,” she said calmly, “Then the decision won't be overturned until an entirely different group of wizards fill the seats of the Wizengamot. Perhaps the decision won't ever be overturned. Then the next time a Dark Wizard comes along, the Aurors can use the Unforgivable Curses on innocent people again.”
“People like my parents.” And it was Neville who said it, his voice steady. He hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “All right. Tell Professor Lupin I'll do it.”
Ginny shut her gaping mouth, remembering belatedly to nod. Then she sighed. “I'm not the one who should be thanking you,” she said softly, “But I think I'm speaking for Professor Lupin and Demetria Laguna when I tell you how much your testimony will be appreciated.”
“I'm not doing it for them,” said Neville.
Ginny looked at Luna, who was gazing at Neville with a small smile on her face. She saw Ginny looking and met her eyes; her smile widened.
Ginny smiled back. “I understand."
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:
"Stop."
Bitter Wand stopped talking, not really in deference to the command, but as an instinctive reaction to the coldly terrible note in Dark Moon's voice. Shadow, who had been stoic ever since he and Bitter Wand had rejoined the others to confess their failure with Kingsley Shacklebolt, found that his hand was trembling. In fear? He shoved his hand into his robe's pocket to hide his shaking, but Danaya noticed. She bit her lip. Next to her, Howling Night was pale.
"You lost your wand?" Still in that same deadly voice.
Bitter Wand nodded jerkily.
"Crucio!" The force of the spell sent Bitter Wand to the floor, where he screamed in pain for what seemed like eternity. Shadow's entire body was shaking now. His fear was justified. For Dark Moon turned his wand next on Shadow, and though he had tried to prepare himself for the pain, he still writhed and made animal sounds of hellish agony. Not even Danaya dared to stop the torture, though. At last, Dark Moon lifted his wand.
"You better hope they're not smart enough to think of using your wand," he warned. "Or you must die."
The cold certainty of the statement pierced the fog of pain still clouding Shadow's senses, but he had no energy to react. At the moment, the memory of the Cruciatus still vivid in his mind, he felt death was welcome. Next to him, Bitter Wand, hunched into a ball on the floor, was silent.
"What will they use the wand for?" Danaya asked timidly.
"To find us." And it was Howling Night who spoke. He understood, and he was the only one besides Dark Moon who did.
Danaya swallowed. On the floor, Shadow closed his eyes. Bitter Wand remained silent.
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-
Hermione, Harry, and Ron went to visit Tonks again. Ginny, busy with Neville, elected not to come with them.
It was a weekend this time. Tonks was still unconscious, but Shacklebolt was there, in a serious, quiet conversation with Lupin about something. The three of them instantly butted in.
At Lupin's nod, Shacklebolt agreed to tell them his story. They trooped into the hallway, to leave Tonks in peace inside her room, and the Auror related to the trio what had happened to him. They hung on to his every word. When he was done, Harry and Ron were worried, but Hermione looked deep in thought. An insight was taking shape in her head, and to her, it was so obvious that she couldn't believe Shacklebolt hadn't thought of it.
Lupin was turning to go back in when she spoke.
“Wait,” said Hermione sharply. Both Shacklebolt and Lupin turned to her. “Do you still have the Death Eater's wand?”
Shacklebolt looked surprised. “Actually, yes, I do. I had forgotten.”
“I have an idea,” Hermione said. “Ollivander's back, right? Why don't you go to him and see if he remembers the Death Eater's wand? Maybe he can give you a lead.”
For a moment there was silence, then Lupin shot Hermione a look that was close to reverent. “That,” he said slowly, “Is truly brilliant.”
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:
But Hermione's euphoria at her stroke of `brilliance,' as Lupin called it, was short-lived.
By some awful coincidence, Hermione ended up paired with Draco during their Transfiguration class. The complex spell used to change a plant into an animal required more power than an underage wizard had, so Professor McGonagall had them cast the spell in pairs. The combined force would be effective. “In a few meetings,” she had warned, “I expect you to be capable of doing this spell on your own.” But for now, pairs it was.
The Gryffindor and Slytherin seventh-years took this class together. Ron had instantly paired up with Harry, who looked apologetically at Hermione before starting to attempt the spell with Ron. Parvati and Lavender had paired up, and Seamus, who was Harry's usual partner, was absent — neither Neville, Dean, Crabbe, or Goyle had gotten into Advanced Transfiguration. Draco usually paired up with Zabini, but Pansy had gotten to him before he could. She seemed to be mad at Draco. And Millicent Bullstrode, like Seamus, was absent.
Hermione and Draco each stood alone, wondering what to do, when McGonagall caught sight of them.
“Granger! Malfoy! Pair up and get started!” she barked.
“What dreadful luck,” Hermione muttered, marching over to Draco. She shot Harry and Ron an evil glance. Ron ignored her, but Harry mouthed “Sorry,” which mollified her. But only slightly.
“What's the matter? You and Weasley had a fight?”
Hermione shot him a glance. Had he just said Weasley, instead of Weasel? He had probably just forgotten. She hadn't failed to notice Pansy's barely concealed anger towards her `Drakie-poo,' and waspishly, she retorted, “We're as happy together as you and Pansy are.”
Instead of coming back with some witty gem of sarcasm, Draco said only, “Pansy and I have broken up. You just make sure to tell all your friends that.”
Was it only her imagination, or had Draco emphasized `all your friends'? Hermione scowled. “Yeah, why don't I do that. I'm sure Harry will jump for joy when he hears that you and Pansy are now both free to prey on innocent people.”
Draco grinned. “You just keep all the hatred coming, Granger. Don't bottle it up inside."
The fact that his tone was so obviously devoid of malice caught Hermione by surprise. She was in a bad mood; had been ever since Ron had abandoned her for Harry. (Or was it vice versa? She quickly squelched that thought.) Admitting guiltily to herself that she was treating Draco the same was he treated everyone else — spitefully — she sighed. Making a genuine effort to be civil, she said stiffly, “Let's get started.”
They started to perform the spell. They didn't do well, which got Hermione's hackles raised again. “Put the stress on the third syllable, not the second!”
“You try it my way, and if it doesn't work, we'll try yours, all right? Nothing's going to happen as long as we're saying the incantation differently.”
Hermione gritted her teeth. “Fine.” They tried Draco's way. The spell didn't work. They tried it Hermione's way. The plant shook itself, and its leaves melted into its stem, which had thickened, forming a snakelike pattern. It wiggled gently. It still wasn't a full-blown snake, for it wasn't hissing, but close enough.
“Yes!” Hermione exulted, shooting Draco an I-told-you-so look.
He rolled his eyes. “Very well, Granger. You were right.”
Had Draco just effectively admitted that he had made a mistake? What was going on? She swallowed her first response, and began thinking. He ignored her.
After a moment, she said, “I think Pansy's trying to make you jealous.”
Draco turned. Pansy was flirting heavily with Zabini; when she saw him looking, she laughed and pressed herself even closer against his side. Zabini wasn't encouraging her, but he wasn't pushing her away, either. He shrugged at Draco. His look said, what can I do?
Draco shook his head and turned back to their almost-snake. “Let's try that again.”
“You're not jealous?” Hermione was watching him closely.
“Should I be?”
They tried the spell again, but Draco forgot to say it correctly. The snake-plant remained the same. Instead of castigating him, Hermione said, “There's a rumor going around that you're dating someone else.”
Draco failed to follow the direction of her thoughts. Thinking she was just trying to annoy him, he said casually, “And who are they saying is the lucky girl?"
“What they're saying, Malfoy, is that it doesn't seem to be a Slytherin."
He turned to face her. She gazed evenly back at him. “Is it a Gryffindor?”
Draco knocked the plant over. The pot crashed to the floor, cracking, and dirt spilled out. The plant was crushed and bent at an odd angle.
"Malfoy!" Professor McGonagall advanced on them, her nostrils flaring. She lifted her wand, but Hermione beat her to it; with a wave of her wand she righted the mess.
Professor McGonagall stopped in her tracks, looking impressed at Hermione's advanced use of magic. The plant and pot were restored so perfectly that it was impossible to tell they had ever been damaged. Forgetting about Draco, she smiled and granted Gryffindor ten points, then moved on.
When she was gone, Draco hissed, "What are you talking about?"
“You told me to tell my friends that you're now single and available,” she pointed out. “My friends are all in Gryffindor.”
Damn. Hermione was so irritating that it was easy to forget how smart she was. He glared at her. “Why don't you mind your own business?” he snapped.
“At last,” she muttered. “The Malfoy we all know and hate.”
They spent a moment glaring at each other, then turned back to the plant.
==============================================================
A/N: Review if you have the time... I'd really like that... and sorry for the delay in updating. But certainly you're used to it by now. ^_^
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Do you love me because I am beautiful? Or am I beautiful because I am loved?”
-Anonymous
CHAPTER ELEVEN
(insight)
Ginny spoke of the Laguna case. Or tried to.
She was trying so hard to spare Neville's feelings that she had managed to dance around the subject for almost an hour now. She dwelled at length on Scrimgeour's good name in the magical community, blabbered nonsense about Demetria Laguna's connection to the Blacks, ranted for at least ten minutes about the evil of Death Eaters, and basically avoided the whole point.
Neville listened, seemingly lost for words, but Luna -- who had insisted on staying to listen, despite numerous hints from Ginny that she'd rather talk to Neville alone -- had no patience for her tact. "Spit it out," she said at last, impatiently. "What does Demetria Laguna want from Neville?"
The three of them were in the library, and Ginny paused to look around for eavesdroppers before responding. She needn't have worried; the library was nearly empty. Time to get to the point.
"To be a witness," she said reluctantly. "To tell the Wizengamot that the Cruciatus is inhumane, and not particularly effective -- especially as a tool to force confessions -- since anyone will confess anything to escape the torture."
"Like what happened to my parents?" Neville's voice was a whisper. Luna reached for his hand and squeezed it, a gesture that Ginny noticed only because she was making an effort to turn away from the look on Neville's face. Inwardly, she cursed Lupin and Scrimgeour and all the other high-profile wizards for putting her in this position. Big boys playing big games. Who was thinking of Neville? Who was considering the possible trauma such a trial could inflict on such an impressionable young man?
"I'm not doing it," Neville said. His voice was higher than usual.
"Neville--" Ginny tried, but he was no longer listening.
"I can't!" he said loudly, and his voice was so pained that Madame Pince, for once, did not give the noisemaker a glare meant to intimidate the culprit into silence. Instead, she gave Neville a look of worried concern, but she soon reverted back to form when her gaze shifted to Ginny. Her evil glare said, what have you done to the poor boy?
It's not me, it's the bloody Ministry of Magic, Ginny wanted to yell, but she forced herself to stay calm. At least Madame Pince was restraining herself from interfering. And Neville's reaction was not unexpected. For a moment she searched for words, and finally, simply, she said, “Professor Lupin trusts you, Neville.”
He paled. “Surely he didn't think I'd agree to this!”
“Yes. He did. He was certain of it, in fact.”
A silence fell over them. The mixture of guilt and anguish and uncertainty on Neville's face made Ginny want to cry.
"I think you should do it," said Luna unexpectedly. "They need you. To show that Scrimgeour made a mistake in authorizing the use of the Unforgivable Curses."
Neville lowered his head. Ginny stared at Luna, stunned. The last thing she had expected was coherent advice from Loony Lovegood.
And she wasn't done yet. “If Scrimgeour wins the case,” she said calmly, “Then the decision won't be overturned until an entirely different group of wizards fill the seats of the Wizengamot. Perhaps the decision won't ever be overturned. Then the next time a Dark Wizard comes along, the Aurors can use the Unforgivable Curses on innocent people again.”
“People like my parents.” And it was Neville who said it, his voice steady. He hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “All right. Tell Professor Lupin I'll do it.”
Ginny shut her gaping mouth, remembering belatedly to nod. Then she sighed. “I'm not the one who should be thanking you,” she said softly, “But I think I'm speaking for Professor Lupin and Demetria Laguna when I tell you how much your testimony will be appreciated.”
“I'm not doing it for them,” said Neville.
Ginny looked at Luna, who was gazing at Neville with a small smile on her face. She saw Ginny looking and met her eyes; her smile widened.
Ginny smiled back. “I understand."
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:
"Stop."
Bitter Wand stopped talking, not really in deference to the command, but as an instinctive reaction to the coldly terrible note in Dark Moon's voice. Shadow, who had been stoic ever since he and Bitter Wand had rejoined the others to confess their failure with Kingsley Shacklebolt, found that his hand was trembling. In fear? He shoved his hand into his robe's pocket to hide his shaking, but Danaya noticed. She bit her lip. Next to her, Howling Night was pale.
"You lost your wand?" Still in that same deadly voice.
Bitter Wand nodded jerkily.
"Crucio!" The force of the spell sent Bitter Wand to the floor, where he screamed in pain for what seemed like eternity. Shadow's entire body was shaking now. His fear was justified. For Dark Moon turned his wand next on Shadow, and though he had tried to prepare himself for the pain, he still writhed and made animal sounds of hellish agony. Not even Danaya dared to stop the torture, though. At last, Dark Moon lifted his wand.
"You better hope they're not smart enough to think of using your wand," he warned. "Or you must die."
The cold certainty of the statement pierced the fog of pain still clouding Shadow's senses, but he had no energy to react. At the moment, the memory of the Cruciatus still vivid in his mind, he felt death was welcome. Next to him, Bitter Wand, hunched into a ball on the floor, was silent.
"What will they use the wand for?" Danaya asked timidly.
"To find us." And it was Howling Night who spoke. He understood, and he was the only one besides Dark Moon who did.
Danaya swallowed. On the floor, Shadow closed his eyes. Bitter Wand remained silent.
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-
Hermione, Harry, and Ron went to visit Tonks again. Ginny, busy with Neville, elected not to come with them.
It was a weekend this time. Tonks was still unconscious, but Shacklebolt was there, in a serious, quiet conversation with Lupin about something. The three of them instantly butted in.
At Lupin's nod, Shacklebolt agreed to tell them his story. They trooped into the hallway, to leave Tonks in peace inside her room, and the Auror related to the trio what had happened to him. They hung on to his every word. When he was done, Harry and Ron were worried, but Hermione looked deep in thought. An insight was taking shape in her head, and to her, it was so obvious that she couldn't believe Shacklebolt hadn't thought of it.
Lupin was turning to go back in when she spoke.
“Wait,” said Hermione sharply. Both Shacklebolt and Lupin turned to her. “Do you still have the Death Eater's wand?”
Shacklebolt looked surprised. “Actually, yes, I do. I had forgotten.”
“I have an idea,” Hermione said. “Ollivander's back, right? Why don't you go to him and see if he remembers the Death Eater's wand? Maybe he can give you a lead.”
For a moment there was silence, then Lupin shot Hermione a look that was close to reverent. “That,” he said slowly, “Is truly brilliant.”
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:
But Hermione's euphoria at her stroke of `brilliance,' as Lupin called it, was short-lived.
By some awful coincidence, Hermione ended up paired with Draco during their Transfiguration class. The complex spell used to change a plant into an animal required more power than an underage wizard had, so Professor McGonagall had them cast the spell in pairs. The combined force would be effective. “In a few meetings,” she had warned, “I expect you to be capable of doing this spell on your own.” But for now, pairs it was.
The Gryffindor and Slytherin seventh-years took this class together. Ron had instantly paired up with Harry, who looked apologetically at Hermione before starting to attempt the spell with Ron. Parvati and Lavender had paired up, and Seamus, who was Harry's usual partner, was absent — neither Neville, Dean, Crabbe, or Goyle had gotten into Advanced Transfiguration. Draco usually paired up with Zabini, but Pansy had gotten to him before he could. She seemed to be mad at Draco. And Millicent Bullstrode, like Seamus, was absent.
Hermione and Draco each stood alone, wondering what to do, when McGonagall caught sight of them.
“Granger! Malfoy! Pair up and get started!” she barked.
“What dreadful luck,” Hermione muttered, marching over to Draco. She shot Harry and Ron an evil glance. Ron ignored her, but Harry mouthed “Sorry,” which mollified her. But only slightly.
“What's the matter? You and Weasley had a fight?”
Hermione shot him a glance. Had he just said Weasley, instead of Weasel? He had probably just forgotten. She hadn't failed to notice Pansy's barely concealed anger towards her `Drakie-poo,' and waspishly, she retorted, “We're as happy together as you and Pansy are.”
Instead of coming back with some witty gem of sarcasm, Draco said only, “Pansy and I have broken up. You just make sure to tell all your friends that.”
Was it only her imagination, or had Draco emphasized `all your friends'? Hermione scowled. “Yeah, why don't I do that. I'm sure Harry will jump for joy when he hears that you and Pansy are now both free to prey on innocent people.”
Draco grinned. “You just keep all the hatred coming, Granger. Don't bottle it up inside."
The fact that his tone was so obviously devoid of malice caught Hermione by surprise. She was in a bad mood; had been ever since Ron had abandoned her for Harry. (Or was it vice versa? She quickly squelched that thought.) Admitting guiltily to herself that she was treating Draco the same was he treated everyone else — spitefully — she sighed. Making a genuine effort to be civil, she said stiffly, “Let's get started.”
They started to perform the spell. They didn't do well, which got Hermione's hackles raised again. “Put the stress on the third syllable, not the second!”
“You try it my way, and if it doesn't work, we'll try yours, all right? Nothing's going to happen as long as we're saying the incantation differently.”
Hermione gritted her teeth. “Fine.” They tried Draco's way. The spell didn't work. They tried it Hermione's way. The plant shook itself, and its leaves melted into its stem, which had thickened, forming a snakelike pattern. It wiggled gently. It still wasn't a full-blown snake, for it wasn't hissing, but close enough.
“Yes!” Hermione exulted, shooting Draco an I-told-you-so look.
He rolled his eyes. “Very well, Granger. You were right.”
Had Draco just effectively admitted that he had made a mistake? What was going on? She swallowed her first response, and began thinking. He ignored her.
After a moment, she said, “I think Pansy's trying to make you jealous.”
Draco turned. Pansy was flirting heavily with Zabini; when she saw him looking, she laughed and pressed herself even closer against his side. Zabini wasn't encouraging her, but he wasn't pushing her away, either. He shrugged at Draco. His look said, what can I do?
Draco shook his head and turned back to their almost-snake. “Let's try that again.”
“You're not jealous?” Hermione was watching him closely.
“Should I be?”
They tried the spell again, but Draco forgot to say it correctly. The snake-plant remained the same. Instead of castigating him, Hermione said, “There's a rumor going around that you're dating someone else.”
Draco failed to follow the direction of her thoughts. Thinking she was just trying to annoy him, he said casually, “And who are they saying is the lucky girl?"
“What they're saying, Malfoy, is that it doesn't seem to be a Slytherin."
He turned to face her. She gazed evenly back at him. “Is it a Gryffindor?”
Draco knocked the plant over. The pot crashed to the floor, cracking, and dirt spilled out. The plant was crushed and bent at an odd angle.
"Malfoy!" Professor McGonagall advanced on them, her nostrils flaring. She lifted her wand, but Hermione beat her to it; with a wave of her wand she righted the mess.
Professor McGonagall stopped in her tracks, looking impressed at Hermione's advanced use of magic. The plant and pot were restored so perfectly that it was impossible to tell they had ever been damaged. Forgetting about Draco, she smiled and granted Gryffindor ten points, then moved on.
When she was gone, Draco hissed, "What are you talking about?"
“You told me to tell my friends that you're now single and available,” she pointed out. “My friends are all in Gryffindor.”
Damn. Hermione was so irritating that it was easy to forget how smart she was. He glared at her. “Why don't you mind your own business?” he snapped.
“At last,” she muttered. “The Malfoy we all know and hate.”
They spent a moment glaring at each other, then turned back to the plant.
==============================================================
A/N: Review if you have the time... I'd really like that... and sorry for the delay in updating. But certainly you're used to it by now. ^_^
To Be Continued.
Nuyaviel is the author of 0 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 70 members. Members who liked Silver and Rust also liked 1165 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 70 members. Members who liked Silver and Rust also liked 1165 other stories.
Leave a Review